


Once More

by Zukajin_Wingbreaker



Category: Warcraft III, World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, M/M, Romantic Angst, Sad Ending, Smoking, Tragic Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7658629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zukajin_Wingbreaker/pseuds/Zukajin_Wingbreaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the history of Azeroth is about to turn another page, Vol'jin is not happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unwanted turn of events

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This is the very first fanfiction I ever posted in english. Even though it's been years since I started working on it, I still feel quite proud of it. I hope you like it too.  
> It takes place in later Cataclysm, when the Aspects and Thrall had obtained the Dragon Soul and destroyed Deathwing with assistance of a Horde raid. (Yes, in this story the Horde takes all the honor.)
> 
> Warning: This is really sad. It made me sad, too, when I read it just when I was working on Path of the Shadow Hunter.  
> (Path of the Shadow Hunter is a prequel, sequel and a spin-off of this. Wink wink.)

As the history of Azeroth is about to turn another page, Vol'jin is not happy.

In general, things were going to get better for everyone: Deathwing is gone for good. The Aspects began to have their grip over Azeroth once again, mending the damage Aspect of Death had caused. That's not why he wasn't happy, though; Shadow Hunter was proud of his Darkspear heroes who assisted the Aspects and Thrall in the attack.

But Vol'jin was proudest of Thrall.

It was a very difficult quest - even for Thrall - to try to save Azeroth from almost certain doom. It required a very strong mind to deal with the pressure, and he did it. Of course he wasn't alone, and they would have been doomed without the help of Aspects and heroes, but the orc was as important as the others on this matter.

Thrall saved Azeroth. Vol'jin knows that, and it made him to adore the shaman even more.

Which was not good at all.

News of Deathwing being gone wasn't the only thing Vol'jin heard about the next day. He did know about Aggra. He did recognize their relationship was quite... close. Thrall had told him about her, and for instant, Shadow Hunter had hated her.

Because it is easier to hate the person who steals your mate from you.

What happened in Hyjal still haunted Vol'jin. It should have been him who saved Thrall, not her. He owed the ex-Warchief big time: he should have been there. And the visions she saw while saving him... They were worrying. Frightening, actually.

Did Thrall really share his future with that red-skin?  
With their own children?

Clenching his fists, Vol'jin balanced his weight on his toes and sat down in front of the fire that was lit before him. Staring at hungry flames, he exhaled the rising smoke in his nostrils, breathing out slowly.

_'We trolls mate for life'_ , Chieftain reminded himself, closing his eyes. _'Orcs don't. I should have remembered it before I fell for him.'_

Though, he knew it was too late to say it now. He had known for a long time that Thrall is his soulmate, but apparently it's not other way around.

Loas are bitches.

With a deep sigh, he kept staring at the fire. Other trolls in the house have been aware of their Chieftain sigh occasionally, but none of them dared to ask him about it. The answer they could get out from Vol'jin was "nothing" or irritated "don't you have anything else to do?". Their attempts to make their leader speak have been in vain earlier, why should the situation be any different now?

Vanira and Zen'tabra peered at their Chieftain for a minute, turning to glance at each other before walking out of the house.  
"'s gone worse, ain't it?" the druid sighed, rubbing her neck. They walked down the road towards the training grounds to check the trainees.  
"Ya. Ah wonder what is de problem. He won' tell us, won' he?" Vanira added sadly, peering at her friend. Green-haired woman only shrugged.

Once they were at training grounds, they stopped and watched the apprentices train.

Things were better after the naga attacks, so it couldn't be it. Vol'jin has led them to their home, and they prepare many potential soldiers for the Horde. It couldn't be Garrosh, because Vol'jin hadn't talked to him in a long time. And now even Deathwing being gone... Everything seems to be okay to them. So what _is_ the problem?

* * *

Vol'jin let out a deep sigh.

It was his day off, and he spent it in his room, lying in his bed. Several animal pelts covered the open windows completely, making the room pitch-dark.

After the news, he hadn't contacted Thrall or answered his calls, even though he had tried to contact him many times during the week. Vol'jin had asked the trolls to tell everyone that he's away and wishes to be left in peace, even if it was for duty.

He was sure that others will not sink the whole island if he's away for a day.

He was aware of his silly behavior, but he couldn't help it. His brain have gone out of control: He couldn't stop thinking about Thrall in someone else's arms, a couple of little Thralls running in circles around their feet.  
Though, the Chieftain of the Darkspear Tribe was certain he chose the wrong way to deal with the situation.

Thrall was never his. And he is not Thrall's in a way he would like to be.  
They are brothers. They are supposed to be supporting each other, but what Vol'jin is doing right now?

Once again, Chieftain felt angry. So angry for not standing by his Warchief's side at the time of joy and happiness. Instead, he keeps himself in the darkness, weeping after something that didn't exist.

"What a pathetic Chiefta'n I am..." Shadow Hunter murmured, clenching the sheets in his hands.  
This situation made him weak, and he hated himself for it.  
 _'Now it stops'_ , he decided. ' _I will stop acting like a fool and focus on things at hand – even those Thrall has for me.'_  
Sighing, he pulled himself out of the bed, dressing fully before leaving the room. Lazily stretching his arms, Vol'jin stepped out of his room, walking down the stairs.

"'m sorry, Warchief, he be still away."

He stopped in the middle of the stairs, taking a sneak peek downstairs. The fire was on, and Vanira was talking to Thrall through it. __  
Now it's time to move on, he reminded himself. His body still hesitated.  
He heard Thrall's voice demand a real explanation of his whereabouts, but Vanira explained calmly that it's his day off and insisted full peace.

_'At least she tried',_ Vol'jin thought, before taking a deep breath and forcing his body forward. Taking slow steps, he made his way down the stairs and towards the fire.

Thrall's miserable expression quickly turned happier as he saw him.  
"Vol'jin!" Warchief exclaimed, and the Chieftain pulled a fake smile on his lips, dismissing Vanira with a nod before turning to his brother.  
"Brother. How are things?" He asked politely.  
"Just great, I have so much to tell you!"  
"'s good." Vol'jin answered, balancing his weight on his toes and sitting down. "Do tell me."  
Thrall smirked. "I was hoping I could tell you face to face. Are you still busy on your "field trips" and whatever reasons your people have told me this week?"  
Vol'jin looked at his flaming eyes in the fire. Why he has to do this? Even though he had decided that his awkward behavior stops now, he didn't want to meet his Warchief yet. It would be easier to just listen to him and look at his face through the fire.

His brain went completely blank, and he muttered something what happened to pop in his head first.  
"Da naga be furious, yes..." He told him slowly, biting his tongue. Why did he even say that? A simple nod would have been more believable than "the nagas are furious?" He wanted to smack himself in the head.

And the urge to hurt himself increased as he watched Thrall narrow his eyes.  
Uncomfortable silence lingered between the two leaders. The troll tried to look as serious as possible; maybe Thrall would believe him.  
It seemed that his hopes were in vain. He almost heard the Warchief's brain gears turn: His eyes were locked on his face, looking for a hint of a lie.  
Feeling nervous, Vol'jin turned his gaze away from the orc, flipping his long, unstylized hair to his chest, leaving his fingers to play with decorations he had on his hair.  
"Brother, what's going on?" He asked. His tone was gentle but demanding; one of the things Vol'jin adored so in Thrall. He is able to speak in a way that would make even an enemy to confess his crimes against the Horde without feeling pressured.  
Still, Vol'jin was able to resist that skill of his this time.  
"Nothin'. I'm jus' tired." He told him. During these weeks, it was very hard to lie to his Warchief. But for the sake of their friendship, that was all he could do until things settled down.  
Thrall studied his face. Vol'jin stared back, his expression serious.

After a long silence, Thrall breathed in. "I'm coming there."  
Vol'jin blinked once, twice. That was the least (and the most) wanted thing he could think of right now. "What?"  
"You heard me."  
"B-but you still be in Northrend?"  
"Actually no. I arrived here in Orgrimmar in the morning. I would have told you earlier if you weren't so... "busy"." There was a weird pause before the Warchief said the last word, and Shadow Hunter gulped. He knew the orc didn't believe him or his trolls anymore.

He was in a big trouble.

Sighing, he waved his hand as a sign of defeat. He couldn't say no to the ex-Warchief. "C'mon then, you are free to enter our land anytime."  
Thrall smiled. Oddly. "I will be there in one hour. Please, find us a place where we can talk... privately."  
Vol'jin closed his eyes, breathing out a simple "Yes". He heard the fire go off, but still he stood there, letting the smoke fill his nostrils.

Did he really deserve this?


	2. Unwanted (wanted) Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vol'jin gets a visitor, and someone pays a visit to say hi to Thrall, as well.

"Chief?" The voice behind Vol'jin called, snapping him out of his frozen state. He didn't even realize he'd stopped to stare at the fire blankly, but with a brief glance behind him, he noticed that most of the people had gone out of the house, probably after the conversation. His eyes locked to a young druid's ones, frowning slightly. He tilted his head questioningly; he barely remembered the other male's name. His tribe is large, and unfortunately he couldn't learn everyone's names, if they weren't that important. But with a glance of his plain kilt and vest, he could tell he was only a trainee.  
"Zen'tabra be wonderin' if ya come ta welcome our heroes back to da village, chief", the shorter male said, quirking a smirk at him. It took time for Vol'jin to push the meeting with Thrall out of his head to realize what his soldier said, and it made him to let out a breathy curse in Zandali.  
"I forgot", the Chieftain grunted, frowning more at himself, "I have a meetin' in an hour, but I hope it will be a short one. Everyone can go ahead, I'll join as soon as I can."  
"Everyah?" The trainee asked, cocking a hairless eyebrow at him. Vol'jin nodded, turning his head slightly to glance at the fire as his stomach sunk at the thought of coming events. "… A couple of guards shoul' stay. Tell six guards ta come here."  
"Do ya have any specific guards in mind, chief?" The shorter male asked, but Vol'jin stood silent as he turned his head completely towards the fire again, his thoughts somewhere else.  
The druid stared at the wild mess of flaming red hair for a short while, before excusing himself out of the house to call any guards which happened to cross his path.

After a short while, six guards came running to Vol'jin, interrupting his stupid thoughts again. The Shadow Hunter told his orders quickly, frustration clear his voice. The guards glanced at each other as Vol'jin told them to pair up in three groups, and one group will stay near the house while two other groups are in Sen'jin Village to celebrate. The Shadow Hunter told them to switch in two hours, so everyone can attend the welcoming party.  
"An' don't get yourselves wasted, you have a task in hand, even if you can join the celebration while it's not your turn ta stay in guard. We have ta stay alert, even in this time of joy and celebration." Vol'jin stopped talking, almost spitting the last three words out. Seriously, what is his problem? He felt himself getting more and more frustrated as the time went by, the thought of Thrall coming here knocking the back of his mind.  
 _'He's just Thrall, not a freaking Old God or anything'_ , the troll reminded himself, his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth.

To his surprise, the guards didn't excuse themselves immediately, but glanced at each other again, then moving their eyes back at him with a questioning look. They seemed bothered, as if they wanted to know something.  
"… What is it?" Vol'jin asked – almost snarled. He quickly stood up, moving towards the large smoking pipe he had gotten from Cairne years ago. He really needed to relax, or he will jump to Thrall – or the guards whose eyes still followed him – like an enraged animal. As he stuffed the large hole with herbs and lit it up, he spoke: "Ya two start. Circle around the main island. One of ya go to da southern beach an' escort Thrall here once he comes."

As he said that, the guards finally understood to leave. They saluted quickly and left to fulfill Vol'jin's orders, even if they didn't know who their leader meant by "you two".

Vol'jin moved to sit behind the smoking pipe, letting out a small sigh. Finally he was going to be alone.  
Finally he could gather his thoughts and prepare himself mentally. He had to make his stupid nervousness away before Warchief came, or the meeting will not go as planned. Yes, he noticed he was nervous – he usually hides it well, but now it seemed to be impossible. He wasn't acting like a leader should act right now, he even wasn't that relaxed, but composed Vol'jin his people learned to know.  
And that's one reason why he should get his thoughts gathered and handled so he could move on.

Vol'jin took a deep inhale from his pipe, leaning his forehead against it as he kept the smoke inside his lungs for a short while, then letting it out slowly. Even if the Chieftain didn't quite understand himself at the moment, he did notice he felt overwhelmed because of the recent events. First, Deathwing is gone, which means Azeroth is saved, her people can live without fear of their world burning. That was something he should be happy about.  
But then there is this _small_ thing about Aggra being pregnant to Thrall.  
This means they are bonded for life. The unborn child symbolizes their everything. What they are. What they have together.  
Love towards each other.

That was something Vol'jin couldn't handle… for now.  
Thankfully, the relaxing herbs started to affect his brain, making him feel his tensed muscles relax, his mind finding its peace. The Chieftain took another inhale, resting his three-fingered hand on the pipe's neck. He knew smoking was a good idea, otherwise he would be circling the house like a caged animal as he waited for that orc appear.

Orc… Thrall is an orc.  
Orcs are green. Many shades of green, sometimes brown, grey and red… But most of them are green these days. Thrall's people were green. Thrall is green.  
That shade of green which palm leaves and the plants around the island held. It was fascinating to look at, to touch. To slide his thick fingers along the delicate leaves – fingers – the wind – him – whispering to him.

Vol'jin turned his gaze slowly to his arm which held the pipe. He had blue skin. Almost turquoise, like the sea around his islands. Welcoming, but its depths held so many dangerous things. The storm brings deadly waves – anger, hatred, death – but when the sky is clear, the sea is at peace – relaxed, calm, in harmony.

The troll realized what he was thinking. What the hell did he stuff in his pipe? His thoughts made no sense, so the herbs in the pipe clearly weren't something he thought they were.  
Vol'jin shrugged, deciding to stop smoking after another inhale. He needed to be himself once Thrall – the walking palm, he chuckled – appears.  
"He needs to stand on his head, though", Vol'jin mused quietly, closing his eyes. "Otherwise the colors are upside down , upside down, leaves aren't supposed ta be at the shaft of the palm tree…" The Chieftain stopped to think for a moment. "Do I say this out loud?"

"Apparently you do, or I have learned to read your thoughts", a deep voice answered from the door. Vol'jin snapped his eyes open, his gaze meeting Thrall's ocean blue orbs.  
Shit.

They stared at each other for a while. Vol'jin couldn't tear his eyes away, it's been so long they had even met face to face. Thrall had been busy with Earthen Ring for a long time, and he had been stuck in Darkspear Islands because of the naga attacks.  
Thrall had just enough time to forget his existence and get bonded with that brown-skin woman.

Even with the effects of the unknown mix of herbs, Vol'jin felt his thoughts darken again.  
"… Great…" He murmured quietly to himself, but before Thrall could ask, he started to talk. "Sorry, I didn't hear you coming."  
"It's alright…" Thrall answered slowly, his eyes locked on Vol'jin's own. The Chieftain could tell he was suspicious about something, but why?  
"What have you been smoking?" The ex-Warchief asked, finally breaking the eye contact to look at the pipe in front of Vol'jin. He sniffed the air. "Felweed?"  
"No, no", the troll snorted, deciding to take one more inhale to ease the uncomfortable feeling that crawled back inside his head. "A mix of relaxin' herbs… I think."  
"You think?" Thrall repeated, cocking an eyebrow. "Judging from what you said before you noticed me, that stuff is… too relaxing, don't you think?"  
"So wha'?" Vol'jin found himself snapping, "I'm not even allowed to relax, is tha' it?"  
The ex-Warchief frowned at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but the Chieftain didn't want to hear – so he talked again.  
"Sorreh. Been sufferin' from a lack o' sleep for a while." At least he told the truth – but surely he didn't have to reveal what caused the lack of sleep, right? "Now, tell me about your journey. I heard rumors that the Alliance aided you too, is that correct?"

Thankfully, Thrall didn't ask any further questions, but Vol'jin could tell that his behavior bothered the orc. As the ex-Warchief talked about his journey, his eyes were locked on Vol'jin's own, and the troll himself had to move his eyes away occasionally when that gaze became too uncomfortable. The way Thrall talked was… monotonous, like he didn't want to tell his tale anymore. But something forced him to keep going, and the troll was thankful for that.

Vol'jin himself stood quiet most of the time. His thoughts seemed to be muddled, and all he could do was listen to Thrall and comment something occasionally. As he expected, his appreciation towards the shaman only grew as he listened.  
Which was bad. But he couldn't help it.

"… But without Aggra, I wouldn't have been able to go through all of this." Thrall suddenly said. The mentioned name made Vol'jin snap from his thoughts, his stomach sinking again.  
And the shaman didn't continue, only looked at him with that unreadable look he had given many times during his visit. Vol'jin frowned, but grunted finally as an answer.  
"Without her teaching and support, Deathwing would have been able to kill me and destroy everything we hold dear. Because of her, I feel like I have grown as a shaman and as a person." Thrall kept going, his tone hardening slightly. Vol'jin felt anger and jealousy raise their ugly heads inside him. Why he had to do this? One fucking sentence about Aggra wasn't enough, is that it?  
The troll didn't know where Thrall aimed with this, so he simply grunted again.  
"Alexstrasza told us that Aggra is pregnant with my child."

Vol'jin tore his eyes from Thrall's again, focusing on the pipe in front of him. He hoped he hid his real feelings well, he really didn't want to explain himself to the man who unconsciously stabs his heart all over again.  
He really felt like punching Thrall right in the face and tell him to shut the fuck up about Aggra already, but he focused on keeping his face normal and form a pathetic attempt of a smile to his lips. "So I heard. Congratulations."

Even if he tried to keep his voice normal, it was the one which betrayed him.

"… I can't believe it."

Vol'jin tensed, his heart starting to hammer faster against his ribcage. He gave Thrall a hopefully-this-is-a-calm-look-look before focusing on litting the pipe again. The fire had died during the story.  
"This is why you're acting like this." Thrall stated, and the troll found it hard to keep himself together anymore. He took a deep inhale from the pipe, letting the smoke out as slowly as possible. He knew he was testing Thrall's nerves, but he really didn't want to give Thrall any more evidence that his marriage somehow bothered him.  
He glanced at Thrall, who looked back at him with a disappointed look.  
"I don't know what you are talking about." Vol'jin answered, silently begging for the herbs to ease his slowly stirring hatred towards himself, Thrall, Aggra, everything.  
"Don't lie to me anymore. What is it about Aggra that bothers you this much?" Thrall asked, moving closer and pulling the pipe away from Vol'jin gently. "Are you afraid that I don't have time to spend time with you once the child is born? That's completely understandable since I've been gone for a long time, and now this happens. But I assure you -"  
"Don't assure anything", Vol'jin interrupted, grasping the neck of the pipe to pull it back to himself. "Because you have no idea."  
"Then tell me, so I know what on earth is going on inside your head!" Thrall stated, impatience clear in his voice. Vol'jin let out a deep sigh and lifted a hand to rub the bridge of his long nose.  
"It's better when you don' know. I treasure our friendship too much, I will not ruin it with somethin' stupid like this." He told the ex-Warchief, his tone harsher than he expected. He stood up, sharing a short glance at the orc. "So I recommend ya to stop askin'. Believe it or not, but I'm happy fo' ya, an' I will pray the Loas that your child will be exactly like ya. But now excuse me –"  
"'Exactly like me?'" Thrall cocked an eyebrow up, making Vol'jin curse inside his head. He let out an awkward fake chuckle, waving his hand dismissively as he walked past Thrall towards the door. "Ya, heroic an' stuff. But ah really shoul' go to da village ta –"

"Vol'jin", the shaman said with a louder voice than earlier. Vol'jin froze in his tracks, turning his eyes back to Thrall slowly.  
"Why don't you just tell me?" The orc asked, a hint of sadness clear in his tone. The troll huffed in increasing anger.  
"An' why don' ya jus' give up? It be better like dis", the Chieftain answered, turning to face the ex-Warchief completely with a deep frown.  
"It's not better like this!" Thrall huffed, crossing his arms against his chest. "It's written all over your face that you're not fine. Even your accent quirks up because you're either nervous or angry because of this!"  
"Mebbe it's because ya ask too maneh questions!" Vol'jin growled, curling his hands into fists. He should calm down before he-  
"That's because I'm worried about you, Vol'jin! Don't you realize that you're my best friend, and always will be! What kind of friend would I am if I simply ignore the well-known fact that my best friend is not alright?"

Vol'jin froze, even his brain went completely blank for a moment. Why Thrall has to make things even harder than they already are?  
A mix of emotions swelled inside the troll's chest. He can't handle this. This was too stressful; he couldn't just get it over with and lay his heart before Thrall's feet. But he didn't know any other way… which would be effective.

"Ge'out." Chieftain finally blurted out, trying to convince his Warchief by pulling a hard expression on his face. "Sorreh mon, but it be better fo' all o' us. This be no real time ta tell ya wha's botherin' me." As he talked, he moved past Thrall, stopping to stand by the door to show it to the orc. "Actualleh, tha' time never be comin'. Jus' let me tink things over in peace an' I be over dis in no time."

"You are over what –" Thrall's sentence was cut short by himself, falling quiet. For a moment, he seemed to consider something, his eyes widening in sudden realization.

Fuck.

Vol'jin slapped his palm against his forehead, cursing quietly to himself. Why he had to say something like that?  
"Dere, looks like ya smart brain found out da answah. I believe dat da door looks like a bettah option den earlier, so ah suggest ya to grant mah wish an' leave." He told the larger male, trying his best to keep his face in check.

_"Teach him da lesson he needs, boy"_ , he could hear a male voice inside his head, joined by another. " _Yess…. Give usss hisss blood. Ya don' desssserve the pain he givessss ta ya!"  
"Ogoun, Dambala, SHUT UP. I don't need any of you messed up in this!" _Vol'jin growled in his mind, a small hint of fear flashing in his eyes. If he lets those two take over his mind, his Warchief would be doomed… He needs to calm down. If his hatred goes up to a berserk state, his mind will be easier to control by Loas he worships.

Though, calming down was something he couldn't achieve instantly. His instincts told him to protect his pride, show the Loa and Thrall that he is not weak.

" _Come onnn, boy, he isssss nothing anymore! He only exissstss ta make ya insssane with ya weak feelingsss. Ya be no leader of ya race, ya be a fool if ya let thissss go on."_ Dambala hissed, and Vol'jin curled his fists into a ball. He didn't even hear Thrall speak to him, until the orc took a step closer to him with a questioning look. The troll snapped his eyes back at his Warchief, and Thrall flinched.  
"Vol'jin, your eyes are glowing. Look, it's alright, I –"

"Alright?" Vol'jin repeated slowly, "how this be alright?"

Thrall opened his mouth to answer, but the troll knew his growing hatred could be seen from his expression and body language more clearly. He stepped closer to Thrall, his vision turning red. "How – in aneh way – this be alright? How in Azerot' ya can make dis look so simpleh by sayin' this be feckin' ALRIGHT?!"

Thrall's face fell grim, though Vol'jin saw a hint of fear from his eyes. He didn't care.  
"Vol'jin, please calm down." The orc simply answered, and there Vol'jin lost himself – feeling the Loas fight for his mind's dominance.

" _Ssssee, he doesssn't take you ssseriousssly!"_  
"That's it, he's making you look ridiculous! That's not appropriate thing to a leader of the Darkspear Tribe!"  
"Teach him the lesssson!"

With a frustrated roar, Vol'jin had no option but to charge towards the orc with unexpected swiftness. He managed to catch Thrall by surprise, throwing him out of the house with so much strength that the shaman fell down the stairs, a few meters away onto the sand. The troll leapt along, landing on top of his Warchief. The sand whirled around them, but all Vol'jin could concentrate on was the Loa's powers surging to his mind. His ears were filled with Dambala's maniacal laughter and his own heavy breathing, his eyes seeing red as he glared down at Thrall – who he didn't even want to hurt. But he was pushed to the edge of madness by himself, the Loa and Thrall as well. He needed a better solution for this.

But the Loa was faster. He felt his own consciousness slip, making more room for the Loa – mostly for Dambala.

An uncomfortable tingling took over his body, making his own body fade and change with the Loa's blessing. He felt his teeth crack and change into razor sharp, thin fangs, cursed venom starting to ooze from the tips. A pained roar turned into a maniacal hiss as his legs, arms and upper body melted together, forming into a shiny blue-scaled tail with spikes running down the spine. His head got more width as it formed to a majestic cobra head, and soon, the transformation was done.

Thrall stared at the colossal serpent looming above him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explanations:
> 
> That stuff Vol'jin smoked before/when Thrall came was not relaxing stuff as he thought. Some of the trolls working in Headquarters has a bad habit of loaning Vol'jin's pipe without him knowing – this time someone forgot to clean the remaining herbs from it. Those herbs – mixed with Vol'jin's own, relaxing herbs – caused mood swings and muddled thoughts. This is why he was attacking Thrall instead of more simple solution.
> 
> As for his accent getting heavier during negative emotions… It's simple. He doesn't pay much attention how he forms the words when he's either angry or nervous.  
> \- Vol'jin went Berserk! In WoW, it simply means that Berserking is an active racial trait of trolls. It increases melee, ranged, and/or spell haste (depending on your class) by 20% for 10 sec. Activating this ability does not trigger the global cooldown.
> 
> ... *Cough* Berserking in a story: There are four stages of being angry. Annoyed – Frustrated – Angry – BERSERK. Vo'ljin went through all four stages, which caused his eyes glow red. Because, well, he was completely mad? I guess that's what Berserk causes to trolls.


	3. Unwanted Feels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vol'jin has to tell everything...

_"Ya bettah not make our child misssserable, green-sssskin!"_ The serpent – almost Vol'jin but mostly Dambala – hissed, his eyes flaming with psychotic hatred.  
" _I sssenssse ya fear, it lookssss like ya have at leasssst learned sssomethin'. Tha'sssss good, but the lesssson isssn' ova yet!"_ His mouth full of sharp fangs turned into a grin.

Thrall got up, backing away. "Excuse me, but as far as I know, this is mine and Vol'jin's business only."

" _He issss usss, assss we are him. Vol'jin isss our bodeh, we are hissss power! Thossse two combined, we are the Vol'jin ya know!"_ Dambala cackled, striking towards the shaman with full speed, protective gums pulling back to reveal oozing canines completely in his wide-open mouth.

" _For fuck's sake, Dambala! Stop!"_ Vol'jin managed to get his voice heard inside his mind. He didn't know how far Dambala will go with Thrall, and it frightened the shit out of him.

Thankfully, Thrall managed to roll out of the way. The serpent head hit the ground instead, giving Dambala a mouthful of sand. He spat them out, hissing in hatred as he turned to face Thrall, who rose to his feet and took a defensive stance.

Dambala lunged towards the ex-Warchief again. Thrall summoned a few totems onto the ground, just in time to grant himself a protective shield against the attack.  
It was as if Dambala tried to sink his teeth into a boulder of stone. He was tough enough to make Thrall's protective stone skin crack, and the serpent hissed in satisfaction.

His mood didn't last long, though – as a powerful gust of wind caught him. Before he was too far away from the shaman, he tried to attack again, but the wind another totem had summoned took a hold of the serpent completely, causing him to fly several yards away – right into an innocent palm tree. The thin tree cracked and fell down because of the pressure the large and heavy serpent body gave. Despite the pain on the serpent's jaws and spine, Dambala crept back towards Thrall, ready to strike again.  
_"Enough wit' da leetle magic trickssssss! Fight like a man ya usssssed ta be!"_ The Loa taunted, _"or did ya gender change wit' that sssssskirt o' yahs?!"_

Thrall wasn't given a change to answer. Dambala lunged towards him again with more speed than he used earlier.

Vol'jin and every Loa inside his mind felt sudden pain. Their shared vision saw two guards lunge between them and Thrall, their shields up to protect themselves from Dambala's fangs. His teeth sunk into a wooden shield, making him vulnerable for a moment. A male troll was fast enough to jump on top of the serpent's body with his heavy armor, locking him in place. Dambala hissed and thrashed in rage, but Vol'jin was now stronger enough – because of the distraction - to prevent him from hurting his own kin.  
A female guard fell on her knees in front of the large serpent head, slapping it across the face sharply. "Chief, get back ta yah senses!" She shouted, and Dambala let out a low hiss.

 _"Tha's it, Dambala, let it go",_ a female voice flowed inside his head, _"It be ovah. Don' hurt those we watch upon. Ya had no right ta interfere."  
"Ssssshaddap, Lukou!" _ Dambala hissed back, but Vol'jin felt his grip lessen in his mind. Every Loa's presences faded one at a time as the fight was over, but he felt Lukou grant her healing blessing so he could heal his damaged jaws and back.

Soon, he felt his body transforming back, but the guard didn't move on top of him. The female guard peered at him suspiciously. "Chief?"  
Vol'jin groaned. "It's me. Get off me, if you mind."

The guard stumbled on his feet, giving the Chieftain his own personal space back. Slowly, he rose into a sitting position, keeping his head low and eyes on the sand in front of him.

"Chief…" the female guard started, feeling confused at the sight of his leader looking so… defeated. It was a rare sight.

"Thanks for saving Thrall. We will discuss how I show my gratitude later", the Shadow Hunter said slowly, finally standing up to his feet. He still felt the healing blessing surge through his body, even though there was nothing to repair anymore. His face turning grim, he sent an apologetic look at Thrall before turning on his heels towards the beach. "The meetin' is over. Guards, go have fun. I'll join you in an hour or so."

With that, he walked away behind his headquarters and sat by the coastline, crossing his legs.

As the blessing slowly faded, he started to think about the Loa. It was lucky that Dambala didn't manage to strike Thrall. Even if the shaman is powerful, he doubted that he could cleanse his body from Dambala's deadly venom successfully. Plus, he had felt Ogou's power surge into him as the other Loa had attacked – which meant his Warchief would have been poisoned and cursed. As far as he knew, nobody had survived that combination alive.

He was thankful that Lukou had voiced her opinion on this matter. She had this weird ability to soothe the troubled soul, even other Loa. It affected Vol'jin handsomely; all he could feel was weird numbness and a hint of depression.

He was ashamed of himself. He should be strong enough to not to let the Loa take over his body like that. That wasn't a real fighting situation, so why the _fel_ did they interfere?

Did they really hate Thrall that much?

If they did, why they chose him to be their Shadow Hunter's soulmate?

He really has to have a serious conversation with them after the welcome party.

Vol'jin knew it would be better to do it now, when the island is mostly empty, but he had been feeling a presence behind him for a short while. Thrall hadn't left, only followed him. The Chieftain sighed, not daring to turn his eyes from the beautiful sunset in horizon.

Soft footsteps caused the sand to crackle under the orc's feet as he walked beside his friend, sitting down. He took his sandals off, placing them behind him.

Silence followed. Vol'jin gazed at him from the corner of his eye, watching the brown-haired orc straighten his kilt and move the decorations so they don't get crushed. He looked so calm and composed as he did that, and the troll wondered how he even could think of hurting the other.

Even Thrall seemed more himself than earlier. Vol'jin couldn't deny that he loved when Thrall didn't push him to talk about something, like earlier.  
_'I guess he was wondering what's going on, which made him act like that earlier.'_ Vol'jin thought, completely understanding his theory. Now when he at least seemed to know, he didn't need to act like that.

The silence turned more companionable in wordless understatement. They both sat there, next to each other, simply enjoying the sunset and each other's presences.

Both of them couldn't deny that this was real friendship, just to sit here without feeling pressured. Vol'jin had missed that too much, he knew that.

"Remember when we were younger?" Thrall broke the silence. The troll hummed in agreement and stretched his arms before resting them against his knees.

"Yes. What of it?" Vol'jin asked, giving him a quick glance.  
"When your father – bless his brave soul – deceased and my people welcomed your people to the Horde." Thrall's face was neutral, his eyes far in the horizon. Vol'jin cast his glance down at the sand in front of him, nodding – even if Thrall didn't see it. "Of course. My kin will always be grateful."

Thrall nodded, a small smile playing on his thin lips. "Do you remember when you barely spoke Orcish?"  
Even Vol'jin had to smile at the memory. "Yeah, even if father tried to teach me before his death. I've always been bad at languages."  
The orc chuckled at that. "And yet you speak Orcish like you've spoken it all your life – if we don't count the times you're intoxicated or feel strong, negative emotions."  
The troll's face twitched, not wanting to think about earlier situation.  
And he felt Thrall knew that. "Our communication was quite… interesting when I tried to teach you Orcish. I remember the day when I wanted to teach you the names of flowers."  
The Chieftain suppressed a snort, his smile slightly widening.

Yes, he remembered that day too.

 _Young Thrall sat inside his cabin of the stolen Alliance ship, a long parchment in his hands. Captain and a scribe sat around the table with him, waiting for their fourth and fifth individuals for their little meeting._  
_Soon, it was time for Vol'jin's Orcish lesson._  
_Speaking of the devil, the tall blue-skin knocked on the door twice before entering with an noticeably elderly scribe of his own. "Throm'ku, Warchief."_  
_"Throm'ka", Thrall corrected with a smile. Vol'jin quirked a smirk at him._  
_To Thrall's eyes, Vol'jin seems quite a character. He was wise, yes, and has his certain charm. He was well composed, but his playful nature quirked up unconsciously during their time spent together . He had admired how fast the new Chieftain seemed to recover from his father's death, and how quickly he took over his tribe. Vol'jin had made sure his kin was helpful to orcs – even if Thrall couldn't give any orders yet because of the lack of shared language. Still, the troll had seen how they could help their new companions: His race had more experience with fishing and climbing, so it was them who got their food after the ship's food supplies were running low and worked with the rags up in the mast and scouted for possible threats up there._  
_"Today, we are learning the names of flowers." Thrall spoke slowly, letting the words sink into Vol'jin's mind. The red-haired troll tilted his head. "Zuna tik?"_  
_Thrall smiled, rolling his eyes. He turned the parchment around to show the pictures of different flowers. Vol'jin let out a short "ah"-sound as he realized. He murmured something to his scribe, who wrote something on her parchment in Zandali._  
_The Warchief beckoned him to come closer. The Chieftain obeyed, taking a seat between Thrall and the Captain. His scribe sat next to the orc scribe so she could mimic his writings in Orcish if necessary and the other way around._  
_"This is peacebloom", Thrall pointed at the first flower, repeating it again; "peacebloom."_  
_"Peecehbla", Vol'jin stated. Thrall tried hard to not to show his amusement._  
_"Zhala'kta", the troll told, pointing at the same flower._  
_"Zhala'kta." Thrall repeated, nodding for their scribes to write the coming words up._  
_Somehow, it was easier for him to form the words of Zandali than Vol'jin and Orcish. Their language is much different, so all Thrall could think was trolls had troubles with forming the words because of the differences._  
_After all, most of them had spoken only Zandali all their life, and Thrall knew how to speak Common beside Orcish already, so he have had his share of different languages._  
_"Again", Thrall suggested, "pea-ce-bloom."_  
_"Pahce…" Vol'jin frowned, scratching the back of his head. "Peahcebloom."_  
_"That's better", Thrall smiled at the fellow leader, pointing at another plant beside the picture of Peacebloom. "Silverleaf."_  
_"Silvaa… liif?" Vol'jin tilted his head, leaning closer to the parchment and Thrall. "Sil…verleef. Dick."_  
_"Dick?" Thrall quirked an eyebrow up, turning to look at Vol'jin. The troll looked confused as he nodded slowly._

_The orc scribe started laughing, so did the Captain next to Vol'jin. Thrall started laughing too, and Vol'jin snapped his head up to look at other orcs, clearly wondering what he said. His scribe even looked offended, glaring at puny green-skins who dared to laugh at their native language._

_"I can't believe it!" The Captain barked between his laughter, leaning his arms against his plated knees. Vol'jin's eyes flew from guards to Thrall, demanding an explanation with his eyes._  
_Thrall suppressed the rest of his laughter, smirking widely. "Dick means… er… crotch in Orcish."_  
_"Dick meanin' croz? wha's dat?" Vol'jin tilted his head again, his long hair falling to the left side completely._  
_"Crotch is…" Thrall couldn't help but point down between his legs. Vol'jin's eyes followed the pointing finger, his face flushing darker blue. But then, his lips started twitching upwards, and finally the troll was a laughing mess of blue skin, large tusks and flaming red hair._  
_"Gotta changah dat", the Chieftain barked in his laughter._

_Thrall stared at his fellow leader. Oh, how he enjoyed their teaching-and-learning sessions. They sure got his mind off his worries and focus on the moment completely._

Both Thrall and Vol'jin stopped to think about the memory, small smiles playing on their lips. Those first months were just like that most of the time, but mostly when there weren't others seeing them. They both enjoyed each other's company very much, and it was the time when the troll became conscious about his odd feelings towards his Warchief.

Affection.

Of course, he was thankful for Thrall for saving them and giving them home among the Horde. That was yet another reason to like Thrall, but he noticed he wanted to be with the orc more and more. The young Vol'jin became suspicious about himself. His own kind is great company, but he had noticed that he wanted to be with his Warchief more.

That's how he became an advisor for Thrall, staying at Grommash Hold with him most of his time – when they finally landed in Durotar to build Orgrimmar after several wins and losses. They literally aged together, as they both led their people under the same roof, and fought most of the wars beside one another.

Great times, great times.

"When you noticed?" Thrall pulled Vol'jin out of his thoughts, his tone careful and quiet. The troll turned his gaze to his friend, finding the ocean blue eyes watching him.

The troll sighed, turning his gaze towards the horizon again. "Promise me somethin'."  
Thrall shifted on his seat, and Vol'jin felt his knee bump against the others. "Anything", came Thrall's answer.  
"Don't throw our friendship away if I tell you dis." He shared a quick, pleading glance at his Warchief.  
The green-skinned man stood quiet for a moment, his eyes searching the troll's own. Before Vol'jin started to become nervous, the orc nodded. "I will not, brother."

The word "brother" lifted his mood up slightly, but not enough. The Chieftain nodded, turning his stare somewhere else again.  
"I wasn't going ta tell you, 'cause I don't wanna burden you when you are freshly wed and got a child comin' and all. But it's been going on for years. Actually, ol' Sen'jin foresaw my soulmate and told me about it."  
Thrall quirked an eyebrow up. "Really?"  
"Yeah. But all he coul' say was my soulmate was green-skinned, a hero an' someone I spend time with a lot sooner or later. But we both have green-skinned heroes among our lines, and I honestly thought it would be a female. I even didn't know I'm into men, but after we…"

Vol'jin swallowed a lump that formed inside his throat. Thrall's face turned grim. "I know it was jus' an experiment, that we agreed to try what it felt like, but… remember what I said… and claimed that it was said because I was high and didn't know what I was sayin' because of ecstasy?"

The Chieftain tried hard to block the memory out of his mind, but everything rushed back into his mind.

His heart ached.

_Vol'jin thought that Thrall had been acting oddly after they got out of the Pig and Whistle Tavern. Yes, there was a… certain event that was quite unexpected in a place like that._

_The leaders saw two male trolls making out in a dim corner of the bar._

_The Chieftain himself was used to that. His race was quite open with relationships of the same gender, but he himself never took a second glance at another male individual like that… or so he thought.  
But it may be more rare to have such an relationship between orcs or other races, so he thought it was the first time Thrall saw something like that – and got confused._

_The Warchief was drunk, and Vol'jin himself had only smoked some "relaxing" herbs, so they both weren't at their best shape right now._

_As they made their back to Grommash Hold, Vol'jin glanced at his best friend once in a while, only to see the same, thoughtful frown on his face. He didn't bother to ask Thrall what he was thinking, so he simply walked beside him, often forgetting himself to stare at the sky, Thrall or something else._

_Before they went into the bar, they had agreed to continue the evening in Thrall's chambers, so instead of Vol'jin going to his own chambers, they both headed towards the end of the hall where stood large twin-doors to Thrall's chambers._

_They talked about this and that, first about the war and work, then about less formal things. Thrall had a glass of whiskey in his hand, and he stared down at it as the silence fell for a moment._

_Finally, Vol'jin decided to do something about his curiosity. "Thrall, is somethin' botherin' ya?"  
Thrall glanced at him, leaning his elbows against the table they were sitting around at. "I was thinking about those two soldiers of yours we saw at the bar. Is it common for trolls to have, er… homosexual relationships?"_

_Vol'jin almost dropped the pipe he was holding. "Er… Ya, afta all it be not us who chooses our mates, its dem Loa. Dey not dat common, but dere be some male or female couples, and dey're not looked down upon."  
"Oh." Thrall answered simply, nodding in agreement._

_Silence fell again, but the orc looked like he had further questions. When his Warchief was drunk, he was so easy to read, unlike when he was sober.  
Vol'jin chuckled. "An'…?"_

_The orc shifted in his seat and downed the whiskey down his throat with a cough. "Do you have any experience about male relationships?"_

_Vol'jin arched an eyebrow. His question took him by surprise: why Thrall is asking something like this?_  
_Oh well, maybe he wants to know more about his race: if it was common for trolls to experiment at young age, since their future soulmates could present their own gender._  
 _"Not really, but ah have heard it's even bettah dan beddin' a female, if intentions be somethin' else dan havin' a kid." He answered, taking a deep inhale of his pipe. He mused quietly at the pleasant fog inside his head._  
 _"Do you know how they do it?" Thrall kept asking. Vol'jin felt an odd pressure in his throat and in the pit of his stomach. The troll frowned at himself._  
 _"Er… Don' kno' much, but it be almost like bein' wit' a female, but males have only two places ta stick yah… dick… in. Also ah heard dat preparation is more importan' so both o' dem wouldn' end up hurtin'."_

_Somehow, he felt uncomfortable talking about this._

_Thrall nodded in understatement. "Okay."_

_Another companionable silence fell between them. Thrall poured another glass of whiskey for himself, but not that much like before. Vol'jin kept sucking his pipe, letting out white rings of smoke. As herbs started to calm his nerves again, he forgot their previous conversation. If he was in Thrall's place, he would have been confused too._

_Couple of hours passed, and Vol'jin found himself on the floor, sitting beside Thrall in front of a large piece of leather which held carefully drawn map of Azeroth, some wooden figures of ships and Horde and alliance Races scattered all around. Some of them even stood in the middle of Maelstrom._

" _\- And then Tauren goes to take over Stranglethorn vale!" Thrall exclaimed, moving a tauren figure along the map to the Stranglethorn Vale._  
_"But evil gnomes comes ta make hamburgers outta' dem!" Vol'jin chuckled, moving a small figure to knock the Tauren figure down. "Hamburger Party in Stranglethorn Vale, everyone from da Alliance comes ta attend! Booze and cow meat!"_  
 _The orc barked a laugh at that. "Sounds both good but highly disturbing! But hey, something unexpected looms above Stranglethorn Vale…" His Warchief smirked, picking up a warship. He places his large hand on Vol'jin's thigh as he leans over to move the ship from Kalimdor to the jungle, making the troll glance at his hand and swallow quietly._  
 _"- A flying ship of deadly goats, a new threat!" Thrall smirked, making the troll laugh despite the distraction._  
 _When his Warchief leant back to sit again, his hand didn't leave. Instead, it moved slightly further up his thigh, his thick fingers brushing the inner side. The Chieftain tried to ignore it and calm his hammering heart._  
 _"Flyin' sh-ships? De-deadleh goats? Da feck?" Vol'jin chuckled nervously, making the orc turn his ocean blue gaze at him._  
 _"What's with the stuttering?" He asked, tilting his head innocently. Something in his smile told the Chieftain that he was far from innocent._  
 _"Er, your hand…" He answered, motioning towards the hand on his thigh with his eyes. "What ya doin'?"_

 _Thrall chuckled shortly, but his expression turned into something he haven't ever seen before. "I'm experimenting."_  
_"… Is dat so?" Vol'jin tilted his head, their earlier conversation popping up to his mind._  
 _Did he really…?_  
 _"Yeah." The orc hummed, leaning closer towards the troll's long ear: "If you let me."_

_Vol'jin felt his throat drying instantly. He tried to swallow and say something, but nothing came._

_And Thrall took it as a yes, because his hand ventured to cup the member of his fellow leader. The troll inhaled sharply, almost dropping the pipe he had on his hand. He felt blood rushing to his face and downwards as well as he cast his eyes to Thrall's hand, watching it start to rub his crotch with a pleasant pressure. His rough – but still gentle – touch felt amazing already, and watching him do it was so erotic. Suddenly, his Warchief squeezed his member, making him moan in both surprise and pleasure._

_It was only the beginning; soon he found himself on Thrall's bed and pressed firmly against the sheets, the others lips on his own and saliva-slickered fingers invading him from the inside._

_Even if Vol'jin heard it would feel good, he never thought it would feel so… incredible in the end. After the climax, he was a trembling mess of a troll leader, chanting undying love for Thrall._

"… Well, let's say that pushed a small pebble down the mountain, causing a huge landslide", Vol'jin sighed, rubbing his forehead. "What I said in there was true afta all… Maybe not when I actually said it, but now…" He glanced at Thrall, who was still watching him. "I realized long time ago who my father was talking about. I'm sorreh. Couldn' help it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH GOD THRALL IS SO NAUGHTY. And me too, since this is yet another – but kinda weird – cliffhanger. I couldn't find a proper place to end this chapter without it being too long.  
> But yep. They have done it once already. *Nods* Did this surprise you?  
> Aaand sorry if you found the first flashback in Thrall PoV disturbing! It just felt more easier to write it on his PoV.


	4. Unwanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... And so does Thrall.

Silence fell over them again, and Vol'jin couldn't figure out its nature. He himself felt awkward and ashamed of himself: after all, Thrall managed to get the truth out of him, even if he didn't want to tell.  
Though, he found himself feeling quite relieved as he finally got the matter rolled off his shoulders, but fear was more powerful, squeezing his throat shut.

Why didn't his Warchief say anything?! Was he thinking of possibilities for a quick escape from this situation?

Once again, Vol'jin felt a lump form inside his throat, his long ears dropping. After so many years, he felt like crying. But yet, he couldn't.  
Even if he had every right to do so, but he wanted to keep the remaining pieces of his pride. He was raised to be a man, a battle-toughened leader.

Men shouldn't show their feelings like a love-struck teenager. And what did he just do? Pour his heart before Thrall's feet, bracing himself for any negative reactions from his soulmate. He couldn't give in to his feelings and even start to cry pathetically in front of his Warchief.  
Groaning mentally, Vol'jin lifted his knees up so he could rest his muscular arms against them, pressing his tusks above them as he turned his gaze down.

"You know…" Thrall voiced slowly, keeping a small break – as if considering what he should say.  
"There is nothing you should apologize from me; it's not your fault at all. I'm not mad or disgusted, if that's what you think – that would be odd from me since I've once held the same feelings for you."

At that, Vol'jin's gaze snapped back up to the shaman, eyes widening in shock. "What?"

Thrall smiled, his gaze turning to meet his. "That evening… My intentions weren't that black and white as I made it look like. I felt this weird affection towards you months before it happened, and seeing those trolls just made me wonder…" The shaman turned his eyes away, biting his lip. "I just wanted to hold you like that even once. If I knew about this earlier, we would have avoided these events that occurred today. "

Vol'jin was frozen. Every word Thrall formed hit him like a lightning, the last sentence stabbing him like the sharpest dagger Azeroth could ever bear on her lands.  
Thrall had at least liked him once.  
If he didn't take his words back after their sexual intercourse, things would be different.

"But now… things have changed too much." Thrall murmured, sending an apologetic look, even if the troll wasn't looking at him anymore.

Vol'jin squeezed his eyes shut so tightly it almost hurt. What he just heard kept repeating itself inside his mind. If he had told about his feelings earlier…

"You're right. It's all my fault…" The Chieftain murmured, cursing himself to the lowest level of Twisting Nether quietly.

He tensed when he felt a warm hand on his elbow, resting there. "If it's your fault, it's my fault as much. I just thought that I shouldn't interfere Loa's plans for you when it comes to finding a mate, so I kept my mouth shut."  
Vol'jin grunted, trying repeatedly to swallow another lump that formed in his throat. He had had too much information for today…

Yet another moment of silence fell over them like a heavy blanket. There was too much going on inside Vol'jin's head, that he couldn't get a grip of any thought which passed his mind as fast as a shooting star. His situation hurt even more when he heard Thrall's side of the story – they could have had something if any of them dared to open their mouths.

But now, it's too late. Thrall had lost his feelings for him and has a pregnant wife. He moved on.  
And yet, Vol'jin himself can't move on. The only one he could share a real bond with was his soulmate.

_Thrall…_

A lone wind joined the humming sea, making palm leaves rustle above their heads. Even though Vol'jin's ears were filled with calming noises of the nature – trying to ease the troll's feelings - the silence between him and his Warchief became overwhelming. Even without looking at him, Vol'jin could tell he was troubled, pondering for solutions for the situation they're in.

He wanted to make things easier for Thrall. Chieftain felt guilty for settling his stupid little problems on his Warchief's shoulders, so it should be his move to end the already awkward situation.

So, without any words, he stood up. The wind became stronger – as if disagreeing with his decision -, pulling the ends of his flaming red hair with it. Calmly, he collected the strands with his hand, settling them onto the left side of his neck once he had glanced at Thrall briefly. He hadn't moved at all, which was better for Vol'jin.

For both of them.

Nodding mostly to his own thoughts, Vol'jin turned, leaving Thrall sit on the warm sand alone. He didn't turn back to see if his Warchief watched him go or something - the silence deepening between them was enough.

Only a few steps more, and he could handle all of this quietly in his head and mourn if he wanted to – without losing his pride.

He got inside the Darkspear Headquarters, making his way upstairs hastily. As soon as he reached the top floor, he stopped to think.

Did he make the right decision after all? What if he made himself look coward to Thrall?

What if his Warchief disliked what he just did, coming to a decision of not wanting to see him anymore?

Vol'jin's ears dropped, the numerous earrings tingling faintly as they touched themselves because of the movement. Slowly, he opened the door to the master bedroom, closing it behind him.

He walked to the large window, breathing the salty air in his lungs. His eyes lingered below the palm tree under his window, seeing nothing.

Thrall isn't there anymore.

"Why should he be?" Vol'jin asked himself, chuckling dryly. He pulled the curtains over the window, turning to lit a candle beside his bed.  
He locked his eyes into the tiny flame, grimacing at his own thoughts. He wanted to punch a wall or set something on fire - like himself. He was so angry to himself for stalking away like that – which led to disappointing his Warchief. At first some ideas might sound good, but turns out it was a very bad idea, just like a few minutes ago.  
"It confirms everythin'. I messed up. There be no one else to blame but me." He sighed, running his hand through his hair as he turned around to face his bedroom – only to see a glimpse of green skin and ocean blue eyes in the darkness of the corridor from the slightly opened door.

"What I just told you about blaming yourself?" A quiet question made the troll quirk his ears back to their original position again, his eyes watching as Thrall entered the room. The door closed behind the ex-Warchief, filling the silence for a brief moment as Vol'jin kept staring at him like a kodo had stepped into his room - he was that surprised.

_'Get a hold of yourself!'_ the Shadow Hunter barked at himself inside his mind, snapping from his odd trance.  
"Ya can't just drop it, I see", Vol'jin muttered, crossing his arms against his chest with a grim expression. "Why so, Warchief? If I was ya, I wouldn't want anyting like this to mess up my happy family life."  
"If you thought I would leave you like this, you are terribly wrong." Thrall answered, his tone gravely serious. The Chieftain swallowed quietly, his heart starting to beat faster as the orc took slow steps towards him.

Silence fell over them again, both of them eyeing each other. Vol'jin was confused as to why his Warchief had stayed, when there were much simpler options? He had a wife waiting at home, goddamnit, he shouldn't be wasting his time with someone as pathetic as _him_. Even if he deeply wished the orc would stay by his side, it was better to let him be. That would be fair for all of them - him, Thrall and Aggra. Maybe he should avoid getting in contact with the shaman as well. That would help...

Vol'jin felt the corners of his eyes tingle uncomfortably, making him tear his eyes away from his Warchief. He couldn't help but curse and hope he could sink through the floor to escape the situation.  
"Can't you be selfish - for once - and leave, forget dis and move on?" He asked, his voice sounding oddlty thick in his ears.  
 _'This is too much'_ , the red-haired man thought desperately, _'fucking bullheaded prick, stop acting like a hero for once and stop wasting your time here...'_  
His pathetic thoughts were interrupted by two fingers taking a rather gentle hold of his beard, turning his head to look at Thrall.  
"What if I don't want to?" The orc asked quietly, securing the red tuft inside his fist as he lowered the troll's head to his height.

Only then Chieftain noticed how close the other male was. Something in Thrall sent shivers down his spine, his confusion only deepening. Why was Thrall acting like this? It made no sense...  
"I..." Vol'jin started, but the other's intense gaze caused his thoughts to disappear without him being able to grasp them properly. He forced to focus his eyes on the hand that was keeping a hold of his beard. "I don' understand why ya keep this up. I imagine it would be easier for you ta just leave. Don't worry about me, it should be ya wife an' unborn child ya should be lookin' after."

"Stop placing yourself below others, Vol'jin", Thrall answered with a voice that sounded like an order, as his thumb grazed the side of the even more confused troll's jaw. "I value your life and well-being as much as I do Aggra's or the child's. Do you know why?"

Vol'jin frowned as the hand holding his beard let go for a moment, only to move to take a hold of his jaw. This whole situation was... bizarre now. He'd dreamt of this day a few times, but the events never led to... this.  
Finding himself being unable to voice his answer, he shook his head as much as he could on Thrall's grip.

"You're my brother, thus considered family. And", Thrall paused, suddenly stepping closer. There were mere inches separating their lips, and that fact made the troll shiver in anticipation of where this odd turn of events would go.

Thrall's expression was gravely serious as he stated the next sentence quietly, his ocean blue eyes holding the focus of amber ones.

"We have more history."

Vol'jin's eyes widened in surprise as Thrall's lips crashed on his own, starting to move instantly as he sought for his response. Choking a sob, Vol'jin closed his eyes again, answering to the kiss and pressing closer to the orc's warm body.

With their lips locked, Thrall leant forward, pushing the Chieftain towards the bed gently. Vol'jin felt his thick fingers sink into his hair, venturing through to his scalp and to the back of his neck. The troll hummed approvingly in their kiss, tilting his head to a better angle. He felt a strong tongue press against his lower lip, asking and gaining an access inside his mouth.

He didn't know for how long they were that way, but during their desperate kiss, their bodies started pressing more firmly against each other. Vol'jin felt Thrall's free hand on his left knee – which was laid on top of his right leg on Thrall's one side – and pull his body further away from Vol'jin, breaking the kiss. The Chieftain opened his eyes questioningly as he gasped for air.

The sight above him made his blood rush inside his veins. He had seen that expression on Thrall's face only once in his life, and there it was again.  
Unhidden lust could be read from his now darker blue eyes, and a lopsided smirk was playing on his lips.  
" _Once more_?" Thrall asked, his voice low and husky. It made the Chieftain's guts twitch violently.  
"But… Wha' about…" He started, not daring to say the other's wife's name out loud.  
He couldn't care less about Aggra, but he didn't want Thrall to get in trouble because of him – or make a mistake he would regret afterwards.

"It's great to see you care about her –" Vol'jin snorted at that, making the orc let out a short chuckle. "– but don't think about it too much. I know people won't accept this if someone hears about this, but I see this as a favor for my frustrated best friend." He placed a kiss on Vol'jin's forehead, smiling down at him. "My friend is down and depressed, what does one need to do?"

The Chieftain stared up at the orc, feeling him spread his legs apart from each other so he could place himself between them. His Warchief leaned closer, revealing his slowly thickening hardness by pressing his hips against Vol'jin's own, making him gasp in surprise.  
"Get his… moods high and up again", Thrall answered his own question, letting out a short chuckle at Vol'jin's expression.

The Chieftain's heart hammered against his ribcage, considering Thrall's words. What he said was true – but there was a huge risk that something bad will happen because of this. But still, the one who was above him - and between his legs – was Thrall, the one whose touch he dreamt about during his lonely nights.

There is no fucking way he will turn Thrall down now – if things will go bad for him, there is no guarantee he will feel his best friend like this ever again. It may sound selfish, yes – but Vol'jin needed to be this close to his beloved one last time.

Vol'jin looked at his Warchief for a moment, quietly nodding at his thoughts. " _Once more_."

A lopsided smirk spread on the orc's face, making the Chieftain's insides twitch again.

After a short while – which felt like hours for Vol'jin -, they had found each other's lips again, slowly making out as Thrall's hands ventured along the sides to his abdomen, starting to unclasp his skin-tight vest. The Chieftain rose his back from the sheets, shrugging the vest off and repeating Thrall's actions by pulling his hood down and lift the leather clothing off – along with the large decorations he had on top of the chestpiece. Their lips found themselves again – as if they never stopped kissing, making Vol'jin forget everything completely - fall into his own world for a moment.

Until he felt Thrall's bare hand on his awakening shaft.

With a surprised gasp, he threw his head back, his spine arching at the touch. Holy fuck, when did Thrall get rid of his pants as well?! He didn't notice it at all, he -  
A throaty moan escaped the chieftain's moistened lips as Thrall's rough hands started massaging his shaft. He felt a tusk scratch the skin above his throat before the orc buried his face on the crook of his neck, his sharp fangs biting his collarbone gently.

Vol'jin's hands found their way up to Thrall's back, his blunt nails drawing lines on their way down to the orc's hips, starting to pull his kilt down his legs. With a free hand, Thrall helped, finally letting go of his hardened member so he could push himself against the other body below him.

The contact of his Warchief's now bare hardness against his own felt heavenly. The almost hurting nibbles on his neck drove him insane, his heavy breathing echoing in his ears.

His three-fingered hand reached out between them. Thrall lifted himself slightly to break the contact of their erections, so Vol'jin could wrap his thick fingers around the dark green organ craving for attention.  
A breathy curse escaped Thrall's lips, making Vol'jin look at him as the dark-haired male lifted his head from his neck, pressing his forehead against his own. A crooked smile appeared on the Shadow Hunter's lips as he brushed his thumb over the tip of the other's thickness, spreading a droplet of precum with rotary movements about the tip. He gazed back at Thrall's blue eyes as he started the same motions he'd done to him a few moments ago, pressing the veins of his cock's surface with his fingertips while massaging it with his palm.

Warm breath brushed over his lips as Thrall closed his eyes to enjoy the touch of Vol'jin's rough fingertips. As his tusks were preventing him from doing some things, the Chieftain ended up nibbling the other's earlobe, sucking on it eagerly. The grunt of pleasure that followed felt like an award far better than a win on the battlefield at that moment, making Vol'jin want to cause more of those noises. He gave the hard organ in his hand a fair squeeze, his movements turning more demanding - and the sucking on his Warchief's earlobe turning more intense.  
The results were what he was looking for. A louder groan escaped the orc's lips, and he opened his eyes to look at the Chieftain, lust evident all over his face.  
That sight alone made his own manhood twitch in excitement, when he moved to look at the orc. He lunged at his lips, their kiss turning more heated and desperate.

Vol'jin moaned against Thrall's lips when he felt a thick finger push through the ring of muscles that was his entrance. His spine arched in both pain and pleasure, but it was soon eased by careful thrusts in and out. When Thrall pushed a second finger in, the Chieftain's grip on the other's cock slipped away, his both hands now causing scratches in the orc's already scarred back.  
Third finger caused his expression to twist into a pained grimace, his eyes closing to prevent his tears of pain - and both sadness and happiness - from rolling down his face.

The movement inside him stopped, letting him get used to the sudden stretching. He could feel Thrall move to nibble on his neck again, trailing down to tease his nipple with a tongue. Vol'jin didn't even care if he was loud anymore, that's how insane Thrall drove him. He just couldn't help but growl in pure pleasure when his muscles got used to the feeling, causing only pleasure when the heavenly fingers started moving again.

But that joy was short lived, as Thrall suddenly pulled out, tugging at his arms. With a whine of protest, Vol'jin opened his eyes, looking at his Warchief, who moved to sit on the bed. With that sexy, lopsided smirk of his, he gathered spit on his fingers. He moved his hand onto his own member, lubricating it with his own saliva.

The sight caused a beast-like growl to emanate from Vol'jin's throat. He raised from lying position, crawling quickly on his Warchief's lap, his ass hovering over the cock he'd dreamt of for years.

"I just want to see you properly." Thrall told him breathily. Vol'jin did never question the sudden change of position, but hearing that made him feel better. A smile - that had been lost for weeks - appeared on his face for a mere moment, before giving way to a groan of pleasure when Thrall gathered more saliva on his fingers and pushed them inside him once again.

"Please", Vol'jin croaked, "I don' care if ya hurt me, I just want your cock _now."_  
 _'To hell with preparation',_ the Chieftain thought, _'I've been longing for this for too long.'_  
Thrall chuckled, pulling his fingers out and placing his left hand on his own cock, and right hand on the Chieftain's hips. "I guess you're ready, then."

And with that, Thrall guided himself to his entrance, pushing the tip of himself inside. Vol'jin closed his eyes in bliss, starting to push himself down with the help of the orc.  
The more Thrall was inside him, the more it hurt. A whimper of pain escaped his throat, and Thrall stopped their motion.  
"Shh", he hushed, brushing a strand of flaming red hair out of his face. "There is no hurry."  
That made Vol'jin open his eyes, finding Thrall smile at him soothingly.

It was the time, when he realized he'd never be able to give his Warchief up to someone else. He had no other option, though, and he didn't know what to do about it.  
Despite the heated moment, he wrapped his hands around the other in a desperate hug.  
" _I don't want to give you up_ ", he started to whisper in his ear in Zandali, not caring if the other understood him or not. " _I love you so much that whatever follows after this, I will not be able to forget. Hell, I don't even want to, even if it kills me for the rest of my pitiful life."_

Thrall was silent, not really giving any hints if he understood what he said. But he didn't care, maybe it was better if he didn't.  
When he retreated from the sudden hug a little to look at the other in the eyes, he was surprised when the other held a expression of concern. Slowly, Thrall wrapped his arms around his middle, pulling him into a slow, gentle kiss. During the kiss, Vol'jin relaxed just enough to be able to push himself down Thrall's cock once again, sheathing it completely inside him. They both groaned in their kiss, and Thrall slid his hand down his sides all the way to his ass, helping him lift up and push down again.  
It was still quite painful and caused the long-held tears to finally escape the corners of his eyes, but he didn't care. He told himself to savor the moment while he still can, take all he could. Let it be pain, pleasure, everything was fine to him - as long as it was Thrall who caused it all.

Vol'jin opened his eyes slightly, meeting his Warchief's darkened eyes. The lust was still clearly evident, but he still seemed concerned about something. Frowning slightly, the troll lifted himself almost completely from his cock, slamming all the way back to the base. They both closed his eyes, the other in raw pleasure and the other in both pain and bliss. Vol'jin didn't even notice the tears anymore, and to be honest, he wouldn't care if he did. It was clear for both of them that he was a mess, there really aren't any reason to hide it anymore.

Opening his eyes again, he noticed he got the result he was hoping for: his Warchief wasn't watching him with concern anymore, seeming to focus on the moment again.

Soon, the Chieftain felt his Warchief's cock thicken inside him, telling him the fact he's very near the edge. Judging from the pulsating heat on his own cock, his end would not be far as well - which Thrall probably knew, as his rough hand took a hold of his shaft, jerking it in rhythm with his thrusts.

A breathless moan emanated from deep within the shadow hunter's throat as his climax hit, his seed staining both of them. Even if his body trembled in exhaustion and bliss, he used his remaining strength to ride his Warchief over his line as well, getting a long groan and a feeling of hot seed spilling inside him as a reward.

They both collapsed on the bed, laying on their sides. Either of them didn't make a move to separate their entangled bodies as they took their time catching their breath.

When Thrall pulled himself out of him, realization hit him.

That was it. Even if he wanted the moment to last for eternities, he knew that would never happen. Suppressing a sigh inside his mouth, he rolled to his back - only to find out how sore his ass was.  
"... Ow."

"You alright?" Thrall asked, worry clear in his voice. Vol'jin waved a hand at him, attempting to pull some humor from the situation as he fake glared at him.  
"My ass hurts like hell."

Thrall barked a short laugh, dragging himself closer so he could place a hand against the troll's lower abdomen. "Sorry, I can fix that."

Vol'jin could feel his lower parts getting colder, as if he'd stepped into icy cold water. He shuddered at it, but was relieved when the pain started to fade away.  
"Brr. Are ya trying to freeze my dick off?" He asked, trying to look hurt by lowering his ears and pouting at his Warchief.  
"Want me to warm it up?" Thrall winked with a grin, and before the shadow hunter could even react properly, his hand was massaging his shaft which renewed quickly under the gentle touch.  
"Wha- again?!" Vol'jin groaned.

Though, they both knew he didn't mind at all.

* * *

"You sure you're alright now?" Thrall asked as he cast a water walking spell on him and his brother.  
With a smile, Vol'jin nodded. "Ya, don' worry about it."  
When he was about to take his first step on the water's surface, he was suddenly pulled into a warm hug. The orc ran his fingers through his stylized hair as he whispered: "Don't hide anything from me, never again. Okay?"  
He didn't know if he meant the events today only, or did he mean all this time they had known each other. He didn't dare to put his bet on the latter.  
He wrapped his arms around his Warchief, sighing. "Ya. You can count on me."  
"Good." Thrall smiled at him, and after confirming nobody was seeing them, he stole one last kiss before stepping into the water. "Come on, you're more than an hour late!"

Vol'jin stopped to stare after Thrall for a moment, frowning slightly. If he didn't know Thrall loved his wife and coming child, he could swear the shaman...  
Shaking his head, he grunted to himself in frustration. No. Dreaming about nonexistent things will cause pain only. So, he stepped into the water, hurrying to walk beside his soulmate. He glanced at his hand, longing to take a hold of it, but he had to remind himself that it was over.

They were simply brothers. Best friends. In the end, that's all he could get, and he should get used to it.

He will always be a number two option for his Warchief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Yyeah, that's about it.  
>  I hope you liked it, and I suggest you to continue reading Path of the Shadow Hunter! Thanks, and see you!

**Author's Note:**

> Vol'jin and his fabulous hairflip.
> 
> One thing I want to explain. Some people may find it odd that in my describes I call Thrall ex-Warchief, and in speech lines someone calls him Warchief. "IS HE A WARCHIEF OR NOT QQ"-question may pop into your head, so I'll just say this: Vol'jin doesn't accept Garrosh as his Warchief, it's still Thrall who he obeys whole-heartedly. So does the other trolls, because their Chieftain does it.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
